


Sweet Stevie

by LadyAngelique, thefilthiestpiglet



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Daddy Kink, De-Serumed Steve Rogers, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, bucky barnes recovery, mcukinkbang, mild sizekink, service top Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAngelique/pseuds/LadyAngelique, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefilthiestpiglet/pseuds/thefilthiestpiglet
Summary: If anyone else had said those words, if Steve wasn’t feeling the hairpin tug gently at his hair, if Bucky hadn’t been so careful to let Steve call the shots this entire time, Steve would have socked them in the mouth.  But it’s Bucky, sitting there looking so fond and tender, so Steve shuffled over and planted himself on Bucky’s knee.Bucky ran a hand along Steve’s shoulder, and Steve relished the feeling of Bucky’s firm callouses caressing his small shoulders.  “Daddy,” he breathed, leaning into the touch.“I’m here, kiddo.”  At Steve’s frown, Bucky winced apologetically.  “That’s a no on ‘kiddo’, then.  Baby-doll?  Stevie?”  Steve nodded.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 14
Kudos: 206
Collections: MCU Kinkbang 2020





	1. November, 1939

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyAngelique](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAngelique/gifts).



> So LadyAngelique drew this absolutely adorable Shrinkyclinks art for the Kinkbang, and so, even though daddy kink isn't really my thing, I had to try my hand at writing a fic for the lovely art. Thank you, LadyAngelique, for all of your gracious support as I figured out how to write words, most of which were turned out to be more the relationship than the kink. You have been an amazing partner.
> 
> Thank you also to the MCU Kinkbang mods for running a smooth ship!
> 
> I'd planned on posting this over 3 days, but I accidentally posted everything?!! Apparently it's not possible for me to have any chill. Anyway, LadyAngelique's lovely art is at the end of the final chapter! :D

As Steve walked home from Al’s Grocers, he tried to remind himself that it was a good job. If he finished shelving and inventory fast enough during the slower part of the day, Al didn’t mind that he did some drawing. The crates were usually light enough that it doesn’t hurt his back, and it’s all indoors, which helped on cold winter days like this one. And the customers were mostly nice. Mostly.

Well, it’s not outright rudeness that Steve really minded. It’s the other customers: the ones that called him “kid”, or cast him avuncular glances, the ones who challenged his sums, or talked down to him as if he’s some fresh-faced teen with milk still behind his ears. Just because most 14 year olds were taller than him didn’t mean he’s not every bit of 21. It’s really a minor complaint, and Steve knew that it was a good job, one that he was lucky to have.

Someone bumped into him as Steve turned the corner onto his street, and the man said distractedly, “Sorry, kiddo” before hurrying on his way. Steve felt another curl of frustration in his stomach. Dammit, he’s *not* a kid. 

Steve stomped up the stairs and into their rooms, raring for a fight, and the most he managed was to wrestle with the doorknob and the key on his way in. It’s a good thing that Bucky wasn’t home yet -- Steve’s in a sore enough mood as it was, and didn’t need someone around to remind him how a real man should look and sound like. Which, he knew, wasn’t being fair to Bucky, but Steve wasn’t in the mood to be _fair_ and _reasonable_. Steve hung up his jacket and threw himself onto the bed, and allowed himself to feel unabashedly miserable for a few minutes. He’s so fucking tired of not being taken seriously, to fight for every acknowledgement and head nod.

Soon, the sounds of the fruit sellers packing up downstairs told Steve that it’s time to pack in his own frustrations -- Bucky’ll be home soon, and he should start on making the dinner. Steve’s on his way to the kitchen, head half full of plans for sprucing up last night’s pasta when his eyes caught on the shimmer of ribbons on the table.

Bucky sometimes bought trinkets and ribbons for his dates -- something small and not particularly expensive, but always tasteful. Steve found himself walking closer to examine the neat strands laid out in a careful bundle -- pinks, lavenders, yellows, and a beautiful cerulean blue. Tentatively, Steve reached out with a hand and ran a finger down the blue ribbon. It felt silky soft under his hands, and almost caught on one of Steve’s pen callouses. Steve closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. He’d never seen Bucky actually give a girl one of these ribbons, but he could imagine Bucky standing behind the girl, carefully winding the ribbon into her hair. Bucky, ever the gentleman, was so good at making his dates feel cherished. Attended to. 

Suddenly, imagining it wasn’t enough. Steve wanted to feel it. He gently picked out the blue ribbon and draped it across the nape of his neck, feeling the coolness against his growing blush. It still wasn’t enough, so Steve he carefully picked up the two ends of the ribbon and started trying to wind it into his hair. He imagined them to be Bucky’s hands, warm, confident, calloused from work. “Hey doll,” he’d say, the diminutive sounding sweet and right coming from him, “You’ve had a rough day at work, huh?” Bucky’d pull him into his arms with none of the pity and condescension that he’s heard all day... 

All of those warm happy feelings turned to cold liver oil when Steve heard the click of the door opening behind him. For a moment, Steve held his breath, as if by not breathing he could pretend he wasn’t here, doing this, that Bucky had entered into an empty apartment. Slowly, behind him, he heard Bucky put down his keys and close the door. Hung up his jacket as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. Then, Bucky’s footsteps drew closer to Steve by the table, arms still up, holding the ribbon. Steve gulped, ready to come up with some excuse, or admit his sins, when Bucky’s fingers brushed against Steve’s, and with a shiver, he heard Bucky say softly, “Let me help you with that, Stevie.”

In a daze, Steve’s arms dropped to his sides, and for a few blissful minutes, all he felt was Bucky behind him, his strong fingers deftly winding the ribbon into Steve’s hair, standing so close that Steve could feel the heat from Bucky’s body. Steve slowly let out a breath and fell into the stillness of the moment. If only he could stand here forever, head framed by Bucky’s arms, safe, cared for, at peace.

“There.” Bucky finished with a bow, then carefully stepped back. Steve could feel the pull of tension, the hesitation in Bucky’s movements, and he turned and stepped with Bucky before the moment was lost, before they returned to normal. 

Standing a few inches from Bucky, his chest was so broad, covering all of Steve’s field of vision. It made it easier for Steve to train his eyes on the dimple on Bucky’s shirt button, to let his mind focus on how tall and strong Bucky was. To feel little and at peace and whisper, “Thanks, daddy.”

Above him, he heard Bucky’s short intake of breath, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Bucky slowly raised his hand and tucked in a stray strand of Steve’s hair. “Sure thing, doll.”

With that, Steve finally dared to look up at Bucky. He half expected disgust on Bucky’s face, or rejection, or, at best, confusion. Instead, he found warmth and fondness in Bucky’s eyes. Steve swallowed and a long-buried part of him stirred, daring to hope.

Bucky broke eye contact first -- something shifted in his eyes, and suddenly they’re back to normal. Bucky punched Steve in the arm and then sauntered into the kitchen to start opening cabinets. “Got anything we can throw together for dinner tonight, Steve?” 

Steve gently caressed the ribbon, then ran over to stop Bucky from making a mess of the pasta. 

The ribbon stayed in Steve’s hair all evening with no further comment from Bucky. 

* * * 

Nothing out of the ordinary happened for a few weeks, and if it weren’t for the blue ribbon tucked away in Steve’s medicine tin, Steve almost thought he’d dreamt the whole thing. Then one day he came home to find a small package on his bed, wrapped neatly with brown paper, laid carefully on top of a note in Bucky’s looped handwriting. The note itself was bigger than the package.

> _Hey Steve,_
> 
> _I saw this and wondered if it’s something you’d like. If I’m completely off my rocker, just put it on my bed and we can pretend none of this happened, no harm no foul._
> 
> _Yours, Bucky._

With trembling fingers, Steve carefully opened the package. It’s a hairpin. It’s not the sort that ma used to use by the handfuls to keep her hair in a neat bun. It’s the sort that he’d see girls wear out on dates, shiny and decorative, tucked in their hair to best show off their curls. It’s a glass shooting star, with trails of rhinestones entwining into a lovely art nouveau pattern. Steve gently tilted the clip between his fingers, watching as the rhinestones caught the light. Steve pictured Bucky walking into a department store and browsing, picking this particular pin and taking it up to the cashier. It suddenly felt heavy in his hand -- Bucky spent money buying this for him. What did Bucky want from him in return? He knew Bucky went out to bathhouses sometimes, or one of the bars. He knew that Bucky was aware of what others called him on the streets, the sneers of “fairy” and “punk.” He knew how Bucky was with women -- courteous, gently flirtatious. And he knew how Bucky was with *him*, as a friend and a roommate. Bucky was many things to many people, and trying to get a handle on what he wants is like trying to catch a swiftly flowing stream. Which Bucky bought the pin and wrote the note?

Well, there’s only one way to find out. Steve clipped the pin in his hair, and picked up a sketchbook to wait for Bucky. 

Bucky’s eyes glowed when he saw the pin in Steve’s hair. He quickly closed the door, hung up his jacket, and took an eager step toward Steve. Steve closed his sketchbook and sat up, crossed his arms and said, “Wait.” Bucky froze mid-step as Steve said the words he’d been practicing in his head. “Bucky, I’m not shaving my eyebrows, I’m not going to dress up girly whenever we’re at home, like Betty does. I’m not gonna be your wife.” Steve flushed, thinking about the hair clip in his hair, and mumbled, “‘m not a pansy.” Steve swallowed, hoping that Bucky didn’t see past his false bravado. He’d wanted Bucky for the last ten years. If Bucky really wanted him to be his wife, if Bucky insisted, Steve wouldn’t know what to say.

Thankfully, Bucky’s reaction was to shrug. “Of course you’re not my wife. I’m not asking you to quit your job and be a kept man.” Bucky gestured to Steve’s rolled up shirt sleeves, the sketchbook and the smudge of charcoal on his thumb, and said, “You’re Steve!” As if that was the answer to every question.

Steve touched the hairpin. “Then… what is this?”

Bucky cocked his head. “You tell me, Steve. You’re the one who said the thing, last time.” 

Steve’s voice caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected the conversation to get here, hadn’t expected Bucky to just accept him. Deep inside him, the indecent desires stirred again, but he couldn’t put it to words. It felt like he was standing on a precipice, and one wrong word from either of them would trip him over the edge.

Bucky looked at him for a long moment, then briefly flattened his lips. “You’re wearing the hairpin, so I’m gonna assume that what you said last time wasn’t a fluke.” When Steve nodded minutely, Bucky took a step further, and said softly, “Well, I’ve been thinking... I wouldn’t mind, being your daddy, taking care of my little Stevie, once in a while.” 

Steve heart started thumping at the nickname. Bucky’d never called him that before -- he knew how much Steve hated diminutives. Somehow, it felt right. But Steve needed to make sure. “But you don’t think it’s wrong? Deviant? Not right in the head?” This wasn’t just liking men, or liking Bucky, or liking to dress up. This was something more.

Bucky shrugged, carefully holding himself at a neutral distance. “I figgered … well, you work yourself ragged, Steve. In all the years that I’ve known you, I’ve never you stop or take a break, unless it’s a week into pneumonia. So, maybe some days you can come home and be my little Stevie, and let me treat you nice.”

Steve swallowed. It sounded so normal when Bucky put it that way. And it’s true -- being raised by Ma by her lonesome, Steve had never been pampered like that. Ma’d leave him home alone when he was five so that she could do the night shift, and he’d run out and start trouble, which was how he ran into Bucky in the first place. 

Steve pushed his sketchbook aside, clearing out a spot on his bed. Bucky took the cue to slide in smoothly next to him, solid and strong. He then looked at Steve, patient and open, and Steve knew that Bucky would stop whenever Steve wanted. It made Steve want to melt against him, so he did, letting go of all the tension that had been keeping him upright. Bucky immediately curled a protective arm around Steve and pulled him in closer. “This feel good, Stevie?”

Steve nodded. It was better than he could have ever hoped. Steve leaned against Bucky, breathing him in. Bucky ran his hand up and down Steve’s spine, and gently kissed Steve’s hairpin. Steve took slow, deep breaths, taking in the solidity of Bucky. He hadn’t felt this at peace since… well, with Bucky a bulwark against everything out there, Steve could let himself think about Ma.

After a long moment, Steve stirred from Bucky’s embrace. Bucky released him immediately, and looked on curiously as Steve reached over to the medicine tin at his bedside table. He made a choked noise when Steve pulled out the blue ribbon, and Steve hid a small smile. 

Turning and lifting up the ribbon, he said, “Daddy, can you...?”

Bucky was definitely flushed as he sat himself more squarely on Steve’s bed and patted his knee. “Come sit on my lap, baby doll, and let daddy get this ribbon sorted out for you.”

If anyone else had said those words, if Steve wasn’t feeling the hairpin tug gently at his hair, if Bucky hadn’t been so careful to let Steve call the shots this entire time, Steve would have socked them in the mouth. But it was Bucky, sitting there looking so fond and tender, so Steve shuffled over and planted himself on Bucky’s knee.

Bucky ran a hand along Steve’s shoulder, and Steve relished the feeling of Bucky’s firm callouses caressing his small shoulders. “Daddy,” he breathed, leaning into the touch.

“I’m here, kiddo.” At Steve’s frown, Bucky winced apologetically. “That’s a no on ‘kiddo’, then. Baby-doll? Stevie?” Steve nodded. “Anything else?”

Steve thought, then, blushing, “I want to be your good little girl.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. “Does that mean that sometimes you want to be bad?”

Steve shook his head sharply. “Just wanna be good, daddy.”

“Ah. Well, let Daddy help my little girl put on this ribbon.” Bucky took the ribbon from Steve’s hands, once more on certain footing.

Steve sat on Daddy’s knees and closed his eyes, letting Daddy gently move him around to get the ribbon woven into a braid in his hair.

“There, all done, princess.” Daddy planted a gentle kiss on the nape of Steve’s neck, and Steve shivered. 

“Steve… Can I…? Just kisses.” Bucky’s voice was husky with want, and Steve nodded, repositioning himself on Bucky’s lap to properly face him. For once, his slimness wasn’t a curse. It was something that Bucky wanted, that they both wanted.

Bucky gently cupped Steve’s face and ran his thumb against Steve’s eyelids. “Keep your eyes closed, my darling.” Steve nodded and let go.

Daddy tilted Steve’s head down and kissed Steve’s forehead, then the top of his head, then once on each cheek, then on the tip of each shoulder. Steve couldn’t remember ever being touched this gently and tenderly before, held as if he were something precious, something loved. When he felt Bucky’s lips graze the tip of his nose, Steve tipped his head up slightly and they kissed, lips on lips.

It’s a chaste little kiss, but it sent tendrils of want down Steve’s body. Bucky’s lips were so firm. He wanted more. He leaned in and chased that kiss with another, opening his mouth and inviting Bucky’s tongue. He heard Bucky make a noise as Bucky clutched him tighter. Under him, he feels Bucky’s cock harden, just as his own is already halfway there.

Bucky broke away from the kiss and leaned back, face flush and biting his lip. “Steve? You okay? This workin’ for ya?“ Steve opened his eyes to see that Bucky’s eyes were dark with lust, even while he carefully held himself still, in case this was all Steve wanted, tonight, or ever. God, he loved Bucky so much. Steve gently laid a hand on the bulge in Bucky’s pants. Well, it shouldn’t be that different from his own, right? He squeezed Bucky’s cock through the fabric and made his voice small but teasing. “Daddy, can Stevie help you with that?”

Bucky arched into Steve’s touch, and he could see Bucky finally letting himself go. “Oh god yes. Be a good little girl and put your hand there, will you?” Steve grinned and repositioned himself so that he was straddling Bucky’s hips. Carefully, he unbuttoned Bucky’s slacks and fished out Bucky’s cock. 

Bucky was running his hands up and down Steve’s back and peppering Steve’s neck and shoulders with kisses. “You’re so amazing, princess.”

Steve flushed and then looked down to get a proper look at Bucky’s cock in his hand. It looked a little different from his, being circumcised and all, but when he gave it a few tentative pulls, it perked and twitched just like expected.

“Is this your first time, baby-doll?” Bucky had stilled, leaning back to let Steve continue his exploration. When Steve nodded, Bucky leaned back on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head. “Well, it feels amazing, Stevie. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Steve smiled and, gripping Bucky’s cock firmly in one hand, he bent down and gave it a little lick. He was rewarded with Bucky moaning and arching into his hand, so Steve tried it some more, licking around the head and running his thumb along the length of the cock.

“God, Stevie, you’re such a good little girl.” 

Steve grinned and pulled at Bucky’s cock, establishing a pace that seemed deeply familiar -- after all, he’d heard Bucky jerk off in his room before. Bucky was panting in quick bursts, now. “Steve, Stevie, wait.” 

Steve stilled and sat up. “Sorry, daddy.” He chewed his lip. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, sweetheart, it’s perfect. But…” Bucky pulled himself more upright, and leaned over to tug at the tent in Steve’s pants. “Baby-doll, you’re being so helpful for Daddy. Can Daddy help you, too?”

Steve feels his flush go all the way down his chest. “Yes, daddy,” he choked out. “Please.” And with that Bucky was on top of him, peeling off his pants and sticking a hand down to rub at Steve’s cock, all while kissing and nibbling all over his torso. The urgency took Steve by surprise: Bucky wanted this, too. It wasn’t an act, not just something nice that he’s doing for Steve. 

The thought went straight to Steve’s head, and he gave in to it. He seized Bucky’s mouth in his and gave as good as he got. Fumbling, his hand found Bucky’s cock again, which elicit another moan from Bucky. “That’s it, Stevie, you’re such a good girl.” The fervent, murmured words, combined with Bucky’s hand around his cock and all of the sensations everywhere from skin and lips and hands pulled Steve over the tipping point. He hissed, then came and came and came.

Somewhere in the haze afterwards, he felt … sticky. Steve touched his belly and his hand pulled away with cum. Steve frowned, something felt wrong. He thought he’d have shot towards … Steve sat bolt upright.

Bucky chuckled beside him, lazy and spent. “Hey Stevie.”

Steve blushed. “Buck, did you…”

The sardonic quirk of Bucky’s eyebrow was tempered by his blissful expression. “Yeah, pretty soon after you.” He picked at Steve’s cum splatters on his own belly, and chuckled. “But I suppose you were pretty distracted.”

Bucky’s eyes range lazily over Steve, but sharpen as he caught Steve shivering. Quickly, Bucky pulled a blanket over him, then slipped easily out of bed and returned soon with a moist towel.

At Steve’s protests, he crooned, “Hey babydoll. Let daddy take care of you, get you all cleaned up.”

Steve let himself be pulled onto Bucky’s lap again and carefully attended to. The warm towel felt nice against his skin, as did the warmth of Bucky’s body, so big and strong. But soon he heard a gurgle from Bucky’s stomach and that was enough to break the spell. With a laugh Steve hopped off and went to poke at the food in the pantry.

Steve felt relaxed and loose the rest of the evening, and Bucky seemed so, as well. After an easy dinner, Bucky climbed into Steve’s bed, where they read and drew, bodies comfortably close. The hairpin stayed in Steve’s hair the whole night.

* * *

A week later, Steve came home to find another package, on the table this time. The note, in Bucky’s familiar hand, said,

> _Hey Princess,  
>  Little girls need to stay warm. This is for when you want me around without the other stuff.  
>  Papa_

It was a soft blue girl’s scarf with lace edging, something that Steve would never wear outside, but just enough to keep his neck and shoulders warm when he’s drawing next to the chilly window. Wearing it felt like getting a hug from Papa, and the full body hugs he got when Bucky actually got home were just a bonus.

Throughout that winter, Steve wore it on days when he’d get home tired from fighting the world or sick from hearing the news. He’d put it on, curl up with a cup of tea and his sketchbook, and wait for papa to come home and give him a hug. Wrapped up in Bucky's arms, Steve felt like a sapling, constantly nourished by the waters of a strong and deep river. It was the best winter in recent memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will have actual porn, I promise!


	2. March, 1940

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve receives another gift

Maybe it was the scarf, but the winter was kind to Steve -- he was laid out a few times by the flu, but nothing major like pneumonia. Just as the worst of the winter was past and the temperature had risen to something that didn’t make Steve’s bones ache constantly, Steve came home to another package on his bed. 

The note said, simply. _Hey Steve, you know to sock me in the face if this is too much, right?_

Steve chuckled and unwrapped the brown paper package, and then his hand stilled. 

It’s a pink chemise, with the tag still on, meaning that it’s not a hand-me-down from one of Bucky’s sisters. The rayon shimmered in the light, shifting from a powder pink something rosier. God, not even in Steve’s deepest fantasies had he imagined he could touch such a thing, much less wear it. He reached out a tentative hand and ran his fingers across the smooth fabric. It felt cool to the touch, and he could already imagine how it’d feel against his body, the way it’d make his nipples perk up, the way his dick would be but a hint under the bottom edge of the chemise.

Fuck, he was already half hard just thinking about it. Steve checked the clock -- Bucky wouldn’t be home for another hour, it’s too early to put it on, but there’s no way Steve could focus properly on anything else. Steve bit his lip and made a plan for the evening. After carefully laying out the chemise on his bed and running his hand over it one last time, Steve picked up the grocery basket and headed downstairs.

When Bucky got in from work, Steve was ready: dinner was on the table, he had given himself a thorough scrubbing *everywhere*, and he’d put on the chemise and clipped on the hairpin. When Steve heard the door click, he set aside his sketchbook to greet Bucky.

“Wow.” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave as he slowly ran his gaze over Steve. “You look stunning, Stevie.”

Steve flushed and fidgeted, uneasy with the praise. He swallowed and gestured at the table. “Um, I figured, if we have dinner first, we’d have the rest of the evening to…” Steve bit his lip, unable to bring himself to say the words, even though he was already half-hard from wearing the chemise.

Bucky leaned over and gently kissed Steve’s forehead. “What a wonderful idea, Stevie.” He then pulled out the chair and gestured with a flourish, “If you will, princess.” Steve giggled and plopped down.

Throughout dinner, Bucky’s eyes kept sliding back to Steve’s form, lingering on the way the chemise hugged Steve’s body. Steve could feel every shift of fabric as he ate the colcannon, the cool fabric catching on his nipples, which only made them harder. He looked up and caught Bucky staring, which made Steve blush more. He was probably redder than the chemise at this point, but Steve couldn’t turn away from Bucky’s gaze.

Finally, Bucky cleared his throat. “You really like it, huh?”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, daddy.”

Bucky put his fork down, meal forgotten. “Why don’t you stand up and give me a twirl, darling?”

Steve blushed as he stood up beside his chair and did a little spin. He didn’t spin, usually. Sure, he’d turn to find Bucky, or lean back to wind up for a punch, or turn in circles on the dance floor. But he didn’t spin like this: to look pretty for Bucky. 

The chemise twirled with him, billowing out and fluttering before gently settling against him again. And suddenly Bucky had his arms wrapped around Steve, his breath hot against Steve’s good ear as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Stevie.” Steve felt his heart catch in his throat. Before he could figure out what to say to that, Bucky gestured to the bedroom. “Do you want to…?” 

Steve nodded, and suddenly Steve was lifted off the ground. Steve’s first instinct was to flail, but before he had time to figure out what was happening, Bucky had carried Steve easily in his arms into the bedroom, and dropped him gently on the bed. Bucky frowned. “Sorry, Steve. Was that too much?”

Steve laughed. “Just give me warning next time so that I could enjoy it properly.” They shared a quick laugh, but then the lustful glint returned to Bucky’s eyes. Steve hesitated. “Bucky, I’ve, um, never done this before.”

Bucky ran his gaze along Steve’s chemise again. “But you want to.”

When Steve nodded eagerly, Bucky broke into a smile, then leaned in to take Steve in a gentle kiss. “Well then, my precious. Let daddy take care of you.” 

With one firm hand, Bucky pushed Steve to lay on his back, and with the other, he gently guided Steve’s legs up to be near his shoulders. Then Bucky bent down and disappeared behind Steve’s legs. Then Steve yelped: he’d expect Bucky to lick his cock, but instead, Bucky had licked *there*. Steve’s squirming drew a low chuckle from Bucky. “Don’t worry, Stevie, let daddy warm up your sweet little pussy for you.” With that, Bucky’s tongue was poking near Steve’s hole, warm and soft. At first it felt weird and a little oversensitive, but under the ministrations of Bucky’s agile tongue, combined with his hand on Steve’s cock, Steve found himself relaxing into the sensation. When he squirmed again, it was a soft and lazy shifting of the hips. 

This elicited a low sound from Bucky. “Ready for more, princess?” When Steve nodded, Bucky   
got up abruptly and headed to their small sink, returning with a small tube of slick. He held up his hand and started slathering the slick all over his fingers. “I’m going to start with one finger, okay?” 

It looked like a lot, but Steve knew how big Bucky’s cock was. He took a deep breath and nodded, and Bucky disappeared behind Steve’s legs again. Soon Steve felt something cold and slick against his hole, drawing out a soft whine from him. Bucky mumbled against his thigh, “Try to relax,” which only made Steve tense up more. Still, Bucky’s finger is pressing inexorably at Steve’s hole. Steve bit his lip. This wasn’t how he had imagined it would go.

“Daddy? I wanna… I wanna see you.”

Bucky’s face popped back up from behind Steve’s knees. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Bucky smiled apologetically. “Got my head stuck in the weeds and forgot the main event.” He then climbed up over Steve and peppered his face and lips with kisses, muttering, “My darling Stevie, you’re so beautiful, you’ve been such a good girl.” Steve found himself relaxing almost immediately, returning kiss for kiss. Bucky pushed forward and nibbled Steve ear, and then used a hand to gently rub circles around Steve’s nipple, which felt amazing through the fabric of the chemise. Steve arched into Bucky’s ministrations, and barely noticed the finger going into his hole until it’s … there.

“How’s it feel, Stevie?” Steve paused, getting used to the feeling of the finger inside him. He tentatively squeezed his muscles, which elicited a chuckle from Bucky, “Want more?” He quickly amended, “You don’t have to, princess, if you don’t want.”

Steve could feel the size of Bucky’s hard cock against his belly. God, he only had one finger inside him and already he felt like he’s about to explode. But he’s also wanted his daddy’s cock in him since he’d learned it was a thing he could want. Steve wiggled experimentally, then nodded. “Daddy, I want more. I want all of you.”

“My darling Stevie,” Bucky shakes his head fondly, then straddles Steve for another kiss. This one was slow and deep, and Steve found himself lost in the many layers of it, the softness of Bucky’s lips, the gentle yet persistent play of Bucky’s tongue, the staccato of Bucky’s teeth against his lips. The taste of Bucky, that blend of engine grease and Lucky Strikes mixed with a hint of musty library books and the grass from Prospect Park. Steve savored the kiss as another finger slid in, and this time, it didn’t feel so… much.

Steve breathed deeply. He could do this. “More.”

This time, Bucky laid him down more properly again, and then, with a final stretch, Daddy’s fingers were gone, replaced with the tip of something larger. Stevie smiled: it’s the head of daddy’s cock pushing at his hole. Stevie closed his eyes and relaxed his hole as he felt Daddy slowly push in. Daddy was going so slowly that Stevie was able to relish the feeling of being filled by Daddy, inch by inch. All of him, completely open and given to daddy.

Finally, Daddy was all the way inside Stevie. He stilled, and whispered, “Still good, princess?” Stevie nodded. Daddy plants a kiss on Stevie’s nose. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Stevie flushed. He wanted Daddy to stay there forever, filling him.

“Forever, huh?” Daddy sounded amused. Steve’s eyes snapped open as he realized that he’d said those words aloud. Bucky mugged a grin. “I promise, it’ll feel even better if I move it a bit.”

Stevie let out a whine as he felt daddy slowly pulling out, but before he could pout properly, daddy thrust back in again and. Oh. It rubbed against something inside him, which sent sparks of delight up Stevie’s spine. His whine turned into a moan. “More, Daddy, more.”

Daddy chuckled and did it again, slower at first, then faster and faster. Soon it was all Stevie could do to cling onto Daddy’s strong shoulders and ride the sparks over the top. With a moan, Daddy was coming, too, and the knowledge that daddy was coming in him and with him sent Stevie into additional pulses of delight.

Slowly, Steve came back to himself, sweaty and sated on the bed, with Bucky draped loose-limbed over him. With a lazy grunt, Bucky pulled out with a slow, obscene “pop”, then pulled the covers over them. “God, Stevie, you’re amazing, I love you so much.”

Steve felt so warm and safe, lying tucked against the warmth of Bucky, that he almost didn’t want to respond. But he needed to know. “Hey, Buck?”

Bucky mumbled sleepily and pulled Steve closer against him. Steve briefly considered waiting until tomorrow, then decided that would give both of them too much of an excuse to sidestep the conversation. Squaring his shoulders, Steve repositioned himself onto his elbows, to show that he meant business. That got Bucky’s attention immediately.  
“Bucky, this thing that we have… what is it?” 

Bucky’s face lost the happy looseness of sex and Steve could feel Bucky stiffen beside him.

“I mean,” Steve swallowed. “What am I, to you? A fling?” At Bucky’s frown, Steve gestured at the ribbons on Bucky’s dresser. “You still go out on dates.”

Bucky worked his jaw, then gestured expansively. “If you haven’t noticed, Steve, I enjoyed this as much as you did.”

“Why? Do you treat your dates as little girls, too?” The question had been gnawing at Steve since the beginning.

Bucky gave him a hooded look. “None of them have particularly wanted it enough to ask for it.”

“So you’re just doing this because I asked?” Steve swallowed. “Is this just a thing that you do for friends who ask?”

Bucky ran his hands through his hair and growled in frustration. “No, Steve, hold your damn horses.” He stood and walked over to pull a Lucky Strike out of his pants pocket, then cracked the window and lit up. Bucky was so beautiful sitting there against the windowsill, limbs long and graceful, and Steve’s breath stilled in the moment.

Finally, with a sigh, Bucky said, “I get off on this because you like it. Because I like doing something that makes you look happy. Because you are so fierce and beautiful and strong and I want nothing more than to hold you and cherish you, and this is a way that I can do that.” 

Bucky took another drag of the cigarette, and looked back out the window, the reflection of his face broken by the lights from the building across the way. Steve could see Bucky’s breath cloud the window pane as he murmured, “Because I love you, Steve. Always have.” 

Steve thought that this sort of thing was supposed to sweep him off his feet, blow him away. Instead, it felt … right. It feels like a slow warmth creeping up from his belly, anchoring him in the knowledge that things are as they should be. 

“And the dates? The bars?” The answer seemed so simple now.

Bucky shrugged. “Just a bit of fun, nothing more than that -- they know, too.” Bucky turned and looked Steve in the eye. “Do you want me to stop?”

Steve bit his lip. Now that he *knew*, really knew, down to his bones, that he was a tree planted by the river of Bucky, and that Bucky would always be there for him, the other things didn’t seem to matter. Steve walked over, nipped Bucky’s cigarette and took a drag. “Nah, do whatever seems fun.” 

He leaned gently against Bucky, the tall one for once. “You know it’s the same for me, right?” Steve’s never been good at verbalizing his feelings, but with Bucky, he didn’t have to.

Bucky huffed a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, Steve. I got you.”


	3. December, 1944

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 1944 and Steve finally made it to the war.

The thought of rescuing Bucky carried him through the drop from Stark’s plane and deep into the HYDRA base, the thread of Bucky’s voice pulled him into the room with the lab instruments -- nothing like the polished brass and floodlights of Stark’s lab back in Brooklyn, but somewhere that reeked of sweat and fear, until he was finally there, standing beside Bucky. Bucky was *alive*. And Steve was strong enough to snap Bucky’s bindings and pull him up into an embrace. “God, Bucky, I thought you were dead.”

Bucky swayed and peered at him, confused and quizzical, “I thought you were smaller.”

Steve’s insides twisted. He thought having Bucky back beside him would make things feel right again, but all it did was cement how wrong this body felt. Every part of him was too big, too strong. Bucky’s looking at him like he’s a big tall stranger, and not his favorite little girl. 

But, there was no time for that. Steve pulled Bucky up and half-carried him out of the base. Maybe later, in the light of the day, things would make more sense.

It was another two weeks before they had a moment alone. 

Bucky slipped into Steve’s officer quarters during the lull between the afternoon strategy meeting and dinner and hovered by the door. It took Steve a moment to notice him -- Bucky had a way of slipping into places, now, quiet, like he’s barely there. Like he was a ghost.

Steve got up and gave him a proper hug, though he was still careful not to squeeze too hard -- Bucky felt too thin against his chest. Too thin and too small. But it was Steve who’s grown. 

“Hey Buck.”

“Steve,” Bucky looked at him fondly, then reached out and gently ran a hand against Steve’s arm, testing the firmness of the muscles there. “You finally did it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, people listen to me now, properly. And I can finally do some good.” Steve hesitated and bit his lip. “But I also miss *us*, daddy.” Steve winced at how deep his voice sounds. 

Bucky couldn’t hide his small frown. “You mean, you still want to…?”

“I mean, if you don’t, then…” Steve stuttered. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Bucky might not want to. Then, trying again, Steve clarified, “But just because I’m physically bigger doesn’t mean I don’t want…” He still wanted to be treasured, to be held and cared for by Bucky, but none of the words made it out of his chest. 

Instead, Steve went to his sketchbook and took out the hairpin that he’d tucked into the inner flap. Shyly, he handed it to Bucky. “I still want to be your Stevie.”

Bucky turned over the hairpin in his hand for a long time. For a moment, Steve thought that Bucky might say yes, become the kind, confident daddy that he sorely missed. But then Bucky shoved all that away as he shoved the hairpin back at Steve. “Maybe we shouldn’t, Steve. You’ve got Carter and I’m…” Bucky gestured helplessly at himself, and when he looked back up, it’s like Bucky’s scraped raw. His shoulders were slumped, and there’s a sharp anxiety in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment before. 

It was like a gut punch to see how much the war had worn on Bucky. He’d known that Bucky had been keeping from him more than he was letting on, but finally, Bucky was letting him see just how frayed he is, how much he’d been carrying. Bucky was haunted by his own ghosts, it’d be unfair to ask him to carry more.

But Steve stuffs his hands in his pockets and instead of taking the proffered hairpin. “Keep it, Bucky. For later, if you ever change your mind.” 

Bucky looked at the hairpin one more time, then slipped it into a pocket. “Maybe, after the war.”

Then Bucky turned away from Steve, and Steve could see how Bucky straightened himself, becoming the Sarge that everyone else saw. He stretched lazily, then turned towards the door, shooting Steve a lazy smile. “C’mon, Cap. The Howlies are waiting for us at the Golden Goose.”

Steve watched as Bucky sauntered out, tense and gaunt but trying so hard not to be. It’s like he’s a tree, reaching for water but the river had dried to a trickle. His confident daddy was gone, and there’s no time for anything else when there’s a war on. 

_Maybe, after the war._

Steve squared his shoulders and followed.


	4. November, 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds Steve after the helicarriers

When Bucky came back to Steve, he seemed so small and uncertain. Despite his large Winter Soldier bulk, he would always hold himself curled in, shoulders hunched as if expecting a reprimand at the slightest mistake, real or otherwise. Bucky was like a shadow -- he would spend most of his time in his room, leaving only to eat food, exercise, and follow Steve on missions. Since Bucky insisted on following Steve on all of his missions, whether he’s cleared for it or not, Steve got in people’s faces until they did clear him. 

Steve started looking forward to missions, because when Bucky was on a mission, he was like the Bucky that Steve remembered -- maybe a bit quieter, a bit deadlier, and a lot more protective -- but also confident and self-assured in ways that Bucky wasn’t when he’s not on a mission.

Sometimes Steve would wonder if he’d ever see Bucky’s old confidence off of the battlefield, or whether HYDRA had succeeded in beating it out of him over the past 70 years. Sometimes, when Steve caught Bucky shooting him sidelong glances at the dinner table or frowning at him at a mission briefing, he’d wonder how much Bucky remembered. Just in case, Steve pestered the Smithsonian into returning all of Bucky’s stuff, which they grudgingly did, but only after Steve promised not to ask for any more of his own stuff back.

Despite all that, Bucky kept to his room, the gym, and the corners of Steve’s vision.

And then on one mission, Steve was hit by some experimental ray when clearing out an AIM lab and suddenly he was swimming in his uniform and struggling to breathe.

Within three ragged breaths, Bucky had surged forward, an implacable wall, and dismantled the ray-gun and knocked out the man behind it. Within 30 minutes, Steve was back at the Tower, with Tony and Bruce bickering about science around him.

Steve, however, only had eyes for Bucky. Bucky was sitting in the corner of the room, tucked partially behind a fern. As per usual, it was the spot with the best vantage points to all potential exits. Unlike normal, however, Bucky’s eyes weren’t constantly darting between said exits. Instead, he was staring at Steve, a frown of recognition on his brow. 

When Bucky slipped out of the room, Steve did, too.

* * *

Steve found Bucky back in their suites, sitting on the couch. He sat military straight, with his arms at his sides, but at least he hadn’t disappeared into his room. He looked up when Steved paused by the door, and Steve held still as Bucky’s eyes roved over Steve’s body. Wherever he looked, Steve felt an answering tingle on his skin. His voice comes out soft, sounding more like himself at 25. “Remember this?” 

Bucky nodded, and finally locked eyes with Steve. “My little Stevie.”

Steve swallowed. He hadn’t heard that name in years. Didn’t let himself even think the name. And yet, here they were, him small again, and Bucky calling him “Stevie.” Steve took a tentative step forward, and tried, “Can I come sit on your lap?”

Bucky gave a brusque nod, as if he was in a trance. Steve slowly walked over and, with a final nod from Bucky, slid onto his lap.

Bucky’s hands instantly curled around Steve’s shoulders and Steve leaned into the solid wall of Bucky, Bucky’s arms enveloping him, protecting him. It felt like homecoming. Steve let out a breath that he didn’t know he’s been holding. “I’ve missed this, Bucky.”

Bucky’s arms tensed around him, and Steve was about to stand back up when Bucky said, “Daddy.” Then, with more confidence, “You used to call me daddy. For this.”

Steve looked up at his daddy and nodded, heart pounding in his chest. Cautiously, Bucky lifted a hand and traced Steve’s chin. “My sweet Stevie.” Bucky planted a gentle kiss on Steve’s forehead. “I remember you, like this.”

This was more than Bucky had said to Steve in the last month. More than Bucky had let Steve touch him since he’d come back. Steve buried himself deeper into Bucky’s firm embrace, reveling in the touch, the strength in daddy’s muscles. They’re stronger now, between the serum and the last 70 years. Daddy’s left arm had a low hum that Steve could hear when he leaned his head against it. Steve rested his head against daddy’s shoulder, and listened to the slow thump of Bucky’s heartbeat. 

He hadn’t felt this at peace for a long time.

Steve mumbled in protest when Bucky stirred against him, but Bucky’s an intractable force when he wanted to be. He bodily picked Steve up and then gently placed him back on the couch, ensconcing him in pillows. With a lazy eye, Steve tracked Bucky as he went into his room and returned with his Bucky Bear. Steve smiled, remembering Bucky being mock-appalled when Howard presented him with one, and then later seeing it tucked in Bucky’s bedroll. Now, Bucky was tilting it one way then another, a frown on his face, until finally, his eyes lit up and from behind a seam of the jacket, he pulled out a small, shiny item. Steve found his breath catching in his throat. It was the hairpin.

Bucky walked over and resettled Steve on his knee, and together they examined the pin. The once-shiny surfaces had grown tarnished with age, and there were a few rhinestones missing -- the hairpin had taken the long way to the future. Steve reflexively breathed on it and gave it a slight polish, then handed it back to Bucky.

“Put it on for me, Daddy?”

Bucky nodded curtly. “Of course, sweetheart.” Tackling the task with the singular focus of a mission, his metal hand didn’t shake as he clipped the pin into Steve’s short hair. Then he leaned back and bit his lip. “Steve, did I do it right?”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Steve replied, putting on his best smile. Then he tilted his head back and surged up so that he could feel Bucky’s breath against his lips. Carefully holding himself close enough that his intentions are clear, but far enough that Bucky could say no, he asked, “Daddy, do you want to…?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and took his mouth in a gentle kiss. Bucky’s lips were a bit dry and his movements uncertain, but it was still Bucky. Steve chased Bucky’s lips when they parted, hungry for more, but stilled when he saw the look of panic in Bucky’s eyes.

“Too much?”

Bucky nodded.

Steve scrambled back upright and stood still as Bucky silently gathered himself. Steve was getting better at reading Bucky’s signs -- the faster, shallower breaths when he’s nervous, the tiny eyebrow twitch when he’s uncertain, the small lift of the corners of his eyes when he’s pleased. Bucky was so much quieter now, but he’s still there. When Bucky’s breathing returned to an even pace, Steve ventured, “Do you want to stop altogether, or ...”

“Later.” There was a glint in Bucky’s eye as he pulled Steve back onto his lap. He breathed deep against Steve’s head, and Steve could feel the pitter-patter of Bucky’s heartbeat slow against him. “I want this.”

Against him, Steve could feel Bucky brace himself and take a deep breath. “For the last 70 years, I was just a weapon, a thing that killed.” Steve looked up and caught the quiet resignation on Bucky’s face. Before the war, Bucky had never wanted to hurt others. Steve raised his hand and gingerly cupped Bucky’s face. With a sigh, Bucky leaned against it and closed his eyes. “Most days I don’t quite remember being anything else.” Bucky lifted a hand and gently touched the pin still in Steve’s hair, and a shadow of a smile passed across his face. “This is nice, but ...”

Steve snuggled closer. “We’ll take it slow. You call the shots.” 

Bucky nodded and buried his face in Steve’s hair. “Thank you, Stevie.”

As Bucky ran a firm hand along Steve’s back, Steve drank in the scent of Bucky, relishing all of the touches and confidences of today. The hairpin, the hugs, the kiss, the conversation. It was like Bucky had laid himself bare before him. Steve sighed happily, but then his mind caught on an errant thought. “Bucky?” 

Bucky hand stilled instantly, and Steve could feel all of Bucky’s attention directed at him. It was that sniper focus again. Steve swallowed. “When you go on missions with us … do you think of yourself as a weapon?” What if Bucky had just traded his minders, from HYDRA to the Avengers? What if Bucky thought of Steve as his handler? What if Bucky was only doing this because he thought that’s what Steve wanted? Steve felt queasy. “You don’t have to come along if you don’t want to. You don’t have to be a weapon anymore.”

Bucky’s chest shook with a dry chuckle. “Wanting things is still sort of new to me, Steve.”  
Bucky resumed caressing Steve’s back as he thought. “I want to be there, to protect you.” There’s a pause as Bucky took a deep breath, his entire body tensing. “But I don’t think I want to kill anymore.” 

Steve pulled Bucky closer, straightening up so that Bucky could rest on him for a change. Beneath his hands, he could feel Bucky’s heartbeat, still too fast. “You don’t have to, Buck. No one is expecting you to kill for us. You’re a teammate, not a weapon.”

Bucky’s arms frame a comfortable circle around Steve as he buried his face in Steve’s neck. “Thanks, Steve. I’ll try to remember that.” Steve could feel Bucky’s shoulders relaxing, and rested his head against Bucky’s chest to hear the steadying thump-thump of his heart.

They stayed like that a long time, until their breaths and heartbeats were one.

* * *

The next day, Steve had to sit through another battery of tests and scans. Bucky wasn’t there this time, but Steve knew how twitchy Bucky got around doctors and lab equipment, so as soon as the tests were done, Steve threw on his shirt and made a beeline for their suite. 

The living room was empty, and Bucky’s door was closed, but when Steve headed to his room, he found a brightly wrapped package on his bed. Steve’s heart pounded in his ears as he approached the package. It felt like it was 1938 just yesterday. There was, of course, a note in Bucky’s handwriting, still the same after all these years.

_Hi Stevie,_

_I wanted to give you this. I hope it’s not too much._

_Yours,  
 ~~B~~ Daddy_

Steve bit back tears of joy at the shakily written “Daddy.” This was Bucky, his Bucky, wanting things, wanting to be his daddy again. Steve opened the package as carefully as he could, so that he could save the wrapping paper. Inside, he found a passel of ribbons. Red, blue, pink, periwinkle, and fourteen more shades of pastel. Some of them sparkled.

“There’s so many more colors now.” Bucky said from behind him. Steve hadn’t heard him leave his room, but then again, that’s just how Bucky walked now. 

Steve turned and smiled. “This one’s still my favorite, though.” He pulled out a cornflower blue one, and saw an answering twinkle in Bucky’s eye. “Braid it for me, Daddy?”

Bucky nodded shyly, and took a seat on the bed. Steve eagerly climbed into his lap, where they spent some time playing with the ribbon. Steve’s hair was too short, but eventually they made it work by using the hairpin to lock the ribbon in place. 

Afterward, Bucky gently caressed the ribbon and said in wonderment, “You’re so beautiful, princess.”

Steve blushed and dipped his head. “Thank you, daddy.” He had missed this feeling of being loved and cherished.

“Stevie, I want to kiss you.” There was a look of determination on Bucky’s face. “A lot. Everywhere.”

Steve could only nod and part his lips. The first kiss was slow and tentative, Bucky took his time to explore his lips before sliding the tip of his tongue inside. Steve kept his mouth open and inviting, letting Bucky set the pace. The next one was more certain, and soon Bucky was peppering Steve in a flurry of kisses, exploring his face and wandering down his neck. Steve leaned back, laughing, giddy and open, and found an answering delight in Bucky. 

“Darling, can I?” Daddy gestured down Steve’s torso, and Steve hurried to take off his shirt. 

Daddy leaned in and gently kissed a trail down Steve’s torso. At Steve’s pants, he paused and looks up again, questioning. “Can I?” Steve nodded, blushing, and Daddy moved further down, unbuttoning his pants and freeing Steve’s cock, already half hard. Stevie shivered and his cock bounced in anticipation. Daddy smiled at Stevie’s excitement, and gave his cock a gentle kiss. “Hey there, cutie.”   
Stevie moaned and arched toward Daddy. “Please, Daddy. More?”

Daddy smiled and kissed Stevie’s cock again. And again. With each additional kiss, he added a bit more tongue. Each kiss sent another tendril of want up Stevie’s chest. He writhed and tried to keep from thrusting up into Daddy’s mouth, but finally he couldn’t hold back anymore. He buried his hands in Daddy’s beautiful hair and begged, “Daddy, please…”

And then Bucky froze.

Steve dropped his hands and backed away. “Bucky, you all right?”

Bucky was quiet for an achingly long moment, then shook himself out of wherever he went. With a soft huff of frustration, he turned his eyes up to Steve. “Sorry. Maybe I’m not ready for this.” He moved to get up.

“Buck.” Steve stayed him with a hand. “Was it my hands around your head, or my cock in your mouth?”

“Hands.” Bucky chewed his lip, still not looking at Steve, then finally said, “Reminded me of the Chair.”

Steve had, in a moment of curiosity, sat in one of those Chairs that they found in an abandoned base and pulled down the metal pads around his head. He’d felt their firm pressure against his temples and imagined the jolts of electricity that they used to erase Bucky and create the Winter Soldier. Imagined what it would be like to have his memories of Bucky, of his life, utterly erased. 

“Here, use this.” Steve pulled the ribbon out of his hair and handed it to Bucky. When Bucky shot him a confused look, he said, “Tie my hands together, so that they’re safe for you.”

Bucky did a quick intake of breath, and Steve wondered briefly when was the last time Bucky thought about his own safety. Reverently, Bucky kissed Steve’s hands as he took the ribbon and slowly wound it around Steve’s wrists. Then, Steve leaned back and held his hands against the headboard. Bucky’s eyes widened when he understood. Delicately, he looped the ribbon around the railing there, then tied it in a loose knot and laid the ends in Steve’s hands. “One tug and you’re free, okay?”

Steve clutched the ribbon strands and nodded. “Don’t worry about me, daddy.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked again, hesitant. 

Steve wrapped his legs around his Daddy, letting him feel how hard Stevie was from all the attention. “Perfect, Daddy. Let me be your good little girl.”

Bucky flushed red, then, with a resolute look in his eyes, started kissing a line down Steve’s torso again, with a mission-like focus. Soon Steve felt Bucky’s kiss on the tip of his cock, and moaned in anticipation. “Please, daddy. Please kiss me *everywhere.*” With a soft chuckle, Daddy took all of Stevie’s cock into his warm, moist mouth. 

It felt *amazing.* Daddy’s tongue darted in and out around Stevie’s cock, and Steve held tight to the headboard to keep himself from accidentally pulling the ribbon loose. He also carefully kept his legs apart, and found himself wishing there were some ribbons for that, too. Maybe next time. After some more exploration, Bucky’s mouth found the right combination of licks, sucks and nips to keep Steve writhing and begging for more. Then, with a glint in his eye, Daddy doubled down -- he wrapped his lips around Stevie’s cock and bounced his head up and down with piston-like efficiency, and Stevie found his pleasure mounting toward the point of no return. Stevie panted out, “Daddy, if you keep going, I’m gonna….”, which only lead Daddy to amp up the speed even more, and then suddenly Steve was coming in Bucky’s mouth, thrusting with every pulse of orgasm.

Bucky took in all of Steve’s come, swallowing everything down with ease, before climbing his way back up. He quickly released Steve’s hands, and looked at him with concern. “Was that all right?”

Steve grinned dopily at him. “I came so hard I saw stars, Buck. That was more than all right.”

Bucky bit his lip. “What about your hands? The ribbons?” 

Steve blushed. “I kinda liked it -- it was nice, to not have to be in charge. Did it work for you?”

Bucky nodded sharply. “Yes.” He smiled shyly. “Felt like I could be in full control, like a mission. Thank you.” Steve recalled all the detailed protocols in the files that controlled every aspect of the Winter Soldier’s life out of the field, from the moment he was woken out of cryo to the moment he was put back in. It made him even more glad that he had suggested the ribbons.

Steve leaned up and gently cupped Bucky’s face. “Anytime, Buck -- feel free to step in. And not just with sex, either.” He planted a gentle kiss on Bucky’s forehead. “I trust you, Bucky. Completely.” 

Bucky’s response was to pull Steve into a long, lingering kiss, broken only when Steve pushed back, cupped Bucky’s hard cock through his pants, and smirked, “All right, my turn.”

* * * 

The scarf showed up a week later, after Steve returned from an infuriating meeting with SHIELD in DC. He felt instantly better with the blue merino wool around his neck, and when Bucky materialized on the couch shortly afterward, Steve quickly sank into Bucky’s lap.

“Rough day, Stevie?” Bucky slung a protective arm around Steve.

“Yeah.” Steve buried his face into Bucky’s shoulder. “The usual of people not listening to me.” Steve couldn’t help a dry chuckle. “Thought that maybe, after being Captain America for all this time, they wouldn’t care how tall I am. But turns out they talk over me just the same.” Steve sighed into Bucky’s chest, and purred when Bucky ran his hands through his hair. “Tell me something nice that happened, Papa.”

Papa rested his chin on Stevie’s head. “Well, while you were in DC, I had to take down an AIM scientist threatening to blow up the Brooklyn bridge.” Steve could feel the warmth and pride in Papa’s voice as he said, “I didn’t kill him.”

“That’s great, Buck!” Steve snuggled closer, heart aglow. “My papa is the best.”

The eagerness with which Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and buried his face in the blue scarf made Steve wonder. “Hey papa?” At Bucky’s answering hum, Steve gently loosened one end of his scarf and wrapped it around Bucky. “You should use the scarf, too, when you’re having a bad day.”

Bucky was quiet for a long time, probably realizing the same thing that Steve did: that before the last week, no one touched him outside of missions. Finally, he closed his eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath. “Thanks, Stevie. You’re so good to me.”

They held each other for a long time after that, ensconced in the soft blue scarf, together. Steve felt like he could stay there forever, but eventually, Bucky stirred. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Stark and Banner -- they will soon figure out a way to turn you back.”

“Probably?” Steve frowned. If he got the serum back, would he lose this Bucky? He wouldn’t be able to sit in Bucky’s lap anymore. Steve clung a bit tighter to Bucky’s shoulder as he thought back to the war. He wanted so much to help, and he still did. But to trade the serum racing through his veins for quiet moments like this with Bucky…. Steve squeezed his eyes shut against the tickle of tears.

“I think… even if you’re bigger….” Bucky’s voice is slow and uncertain. “I want to still try this.”

Steve tilted his head up and pulled Bucky into a gentle kiss. “Thank you, Bucky.” Bucky’s eyes were warm and hopeful. “I want this, too.”

* * *

“So, you want the bad news first or the good news?” Tony rolled over on his wheely stool the moment Steve and Bucky entered the lab.

Steve squared his shoulders. “Bad news.”

“Well, bad news is that you’re stuck with this body. Captain America Lite.” Tony looked apologetic.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look, and Steve took a deep breath. “What’s the good news, then?”

“Good news is that there’s enough serum left in your body that we can use dad’s Vita Rays to boost it and get you your strength and healing factor back.” Tony gestured at a series of charts that popped up suddenly beside him. “Well, less strong because you’ll have less muscle buildup on these spindly arms here, but whatever you have will be amplified as usual.”

Steve said slowly, “So… I’ll still be able to go on missions. Be Captain America.”

Tony shrugged. “Sure. In fact, more of you will fit behind that shield.” He paused. “We’ll have to figure out something for PR stuff though -- right now you can barely see over the podium.”

Steve bit his lip to keep from laughing, but he exchanged another glance with Bucky. “We’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll pass the shield to Sam. Learn some different ways of fighting from Natasha.”

Tony nodded, then leaned back and gave Steve a quizzical look. “You … don’t seem super upset about this.”

Thankfully, before Steve gave himself away by grinning like a madman, Bucky stepped in and laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Steve’s just processing. What is the timeline for using the Vita Rays?” 

Tony blinked, then looked between Steve and Bucky. He looked like he was about to say more, but then thought better of it when he caught the look on Bucky’s face. For the rest of the day, Bucky was at Steve’s side, calmly participating in conversations with the Avengers and the med team. Most of them managed to hide their surprise better than Tony.

That night, there was a dinner waiting for them when they finally got back to their suite -- boxes of take-out, ready to heat and plate. Steve paused at the door -- JARVIS was usually far more discreet than this. Behind him, Bucky gently nudged him. “It’s all right -- I asked JARVIS to make a dinner order. I wanted to celebrate.” 

Steve finally let out the joy he’d been keeping in all day, and gave Bucky a big hug. He felt an answering joy in Bucky. After a moment, Steve pulled apart. “C’mon, let’s eat dinner and then ‘celebrate’ properly.”

“Wait.” Bucky ducked into his room and returned with a package. “Maybe we can freshen up a bit?” He blushed. “Um, I didn’t get a chance to write a note, but put on whatever feels comfortable. Which doesn’t have to be from this, if, er, you don’t want.” Bucky blushed even harder, and then he disappeared into his room to presumably “freshen up” as well. 

For a second, Steve thought he smelled the hint of pomade, but shook his head and went to open his package. 

It was a pink chemise, or whatever the modern form is called. Not rayon this time -- it’s something translucent and sheer, and felt light and airy when Steve picked it up. But it wasn’t only the chemise. There was also a slip of pink underwear, a satin band, and … a small metallic plug with a large gem on the end. Steve blushed. He’s watched enough porn to recognize the plug, but he’d never seen one so… pretty. Laying out the items, Steve carefully considered his options. The chemise, definitely. The underwear would feel amazing against his cock, and would be even more fun to take off. The butt plug… Steve picked it up and hefted it. It’s heavy, though a fair bit smaller than Bucky’s cock. He liked the idea of it, and would probably enjoy the feel of it, too. But then he pictured it inside him as he tried to cut steak, and frowned. Steve put the plug down again -- after dinner, maybe. Lastly, he picked up the pink band. What he took as a ribbon at first was actually supple leather. Etched onto the side was a pattern of stars, and on one end was a buckle. It was a choker, like the kind that princesses wore in movies, but … Steve blushed. It could also be a collar.

Finally, Steve put on the chemise and the underwear, and brought the choker out of the room with him. Bucky was already waiting on the couch, and stood up when he saw him. Steve couldn’t help pausing. Bucky was wearing a blue jacket in a style that was modern, but with a hint of the lapel shapes of the 30s. It was clearly tailored so that his arm plates wouldn’t catch on the fabric. His hair was clearly slicked with some pomade, and the scent of it swept Steve back to 75 years ago, when Bucky came home to find Steve playing with his ribbons.

Bucky’s eyes swept over Steve’s body, taking in the outlines of his cock and nipples that the lacy chemise served to highlight. His eyes lingered on the choker in Steve’s hand, then flicked quickly to Steve’s face. “Everything all right?”

Steve pulled himself back to the present. “Great, Bucky. Just…” He held up the choker. “Is this supposed to be decorative… or something more?”

Bucky shrugged and spread his hands. “What do you want it to be?”

Steve considered carefully. He remembered the feeling of the ribbons around his wrists the other night and the simplicity of just letting Bucky take control. He remembered wrapping his scarf around Bucky and letting Bucky lean on him. “For now, I think it’s just a pretty choker.” Later, Steve told himself, just like the plug sitting on his bed. In the meantime… Steve held out the pink band. “Can you put it on for me, Daddy?” 

Daddy smiled and walked over. Steve turned around and felt daddy’s careful fingers across the nape of his neck as he buckled the choker on. Everything was a perfect fit.

“You had this prepared.” Steve said, mock-accusatory. “You couldn’t have gotten this today in the last 2 hours.”

Bucky smiled. “Wanted to wait.”

Steve suddenly wondered why Bucky waited until March for the chemise back in ‘40. Was he waiting to see if it was a passing phase? Was he waiting to see if he’d have to spend his savings on getting medicine for Steve? Was there another package in Bucky’s room, with items sized for a larger Steve? All his life, Bucky had always been there for Steve. Even when Bucky felt so distant and mysterious, Steve knew that if he waited long enough, Bucky would find his way back to him. 

Steve got up and twined his arm around Bucky’s waist.

“Well, I think we’re both done waiting.”

Bucky gently pulled Steve toward the dinner table, wending his arm around Steve’s body like a river that has meandered its way back to the tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaahhhh I can't believe I finished writing this fic! (haha every fic I'm like "what are words, I will never finish, why did yet another dialogue scene sprout up out of nowhere, why do I have to describe things ugh")
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading, and I'm sending lots of hopeful vibes to everyone in the midst of this COVID-19 pandemic!


End file.
